


Dabit deus his quoque finem

by glinda4thegood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-27
Updated: 2011-05-27
Packaged: 2017-10-19 20:10:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glinda4thegood/pseuds/glinda4thegood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>God has the last word, which is only right, since he accepts responsibility for the first. Post Season Six.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dabit deus his quoque finem

"Worship me," Castiel says.

"Right. That's about enough of that shit." Chuck steps out of the space between one moment and the next. He glares with equal ferocity at Castiel, Dean, Sam and Bobby. "Worship you? You moody fuck up?"

He snaps his fingers and Castiel doubles over, retches. "Binge and purge. While I _do_ have time for this, there are other places in the multiverse that need my attention more. Even as we speak I'm losing two hundred and seventy five Californias into the Pacifics."

Bobby finds courage to complain first. Chuck views this as comforting reassurance that this part of the multiverse is still statistically skewed enough to be more interesting than nine-tenths of the rest of creation.

"Cutting it a bit close, aren't you? I ain't going down on my knees for anyone."

Chuck senses the flow of souls as they exit Castiel's vessel. Purgatory's limitless void welcomes the energy, settles and realigns along established lines of force. "We both know that isn't true, Bobby."

Chuck's legs lengthen, his flannel shirt disappears, along with his facial hair. He runs one hand over the suddenly bare, pale flesh of his/her midriff. "Claudia Black, wearing Gaultier Createur brief and underwire bra, dark blue and a pair of Louboutins that won't be designed for another five years local time. Also dark blue." She quirks an eyebrow at Bobby and licks her lips. "Still not willing to fall on your knees?"

Bobby, Dean _and_ Sam give physical indications it won't take much persuasion. "Watch and learn, Castiel, you humorless shit. I take full responsibility. I created you. Lucifer, Anuska, Castiel . . . I had the highest hopes for the three of you. You three --" she points a finger Bobby, Dean and Sam, "need to understand that an absent parent does not automatically equate to abandoned children. Were you raised by wolves?"

"No," Deans says without much conviction.

"No." Chuck stabs a finger toward Castiel. "I bring you back twice to help them, and as soon as I get busy somewhere else you turn into Evil Nanny. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Castiel collapses. "I have no excuse. I wanted to help. I wanted . . ."

"Notice all those statements begin with the same word?" Chuck bends and offers Castiel a hand up. She sees Castiel's eyes seem transfixed by the architecture of the bra. "What am I going to do with you? Michael, Raphael, Balthazar, Gabriel and Anuska have all been returned to the bosom of the Heavenly Host, along with _extremely_ specific instructions to worship, praise, sing their frickin' little hearts out, and stay the hell off this earth unless I personally communicate a difference in mission. Lucifer stays in the pit, and for a single denarius I'd throw your sorry ass in with him."

"What about Crowley? And hell?" Bobby perseveres.

"Crowley and Adam have been relocated to Lower Tadfield, after a little reality therapy. Meg is now Queen of Hell, and her citizens have been put under house arrest, tagged with metaphysical tethers," Chuck says.

"Are you sending Cas back to Heaven?" Dean sounds conflicted by the possibility.

"Hell no." Chuck puts his hands on Claudia's hips, rolls her eyes. "He wants to understand freedom of choice? I'm going to give him what he wants. The wings come off. You did claim him as family, Dean." Chuck waves her fingers and Castiel's trenchcoat, tie and suit morph into blue jeans and t-shirt. "Keep him alive. Teach him some skills. The resurrection bullet-train no longer runs through this part of the multiverse, boys."

"Human?" Castiel tries to read the slogan on the t-shirt upside down.

"Don't stop believing," Chuck says, helpfully. "Instructions are simple. Do good works with the Winchesters. Bobby has an empty bedroom if you need a place to crash. Angels are gender flexible, but you're in a male human body. Good luck finding your own sexual identity. For the record, Dean, Sam, how do you feel about having sex with each other?"

"Oh. My. God." Dean sounds incredulous. "You are fucking kidding me. We're brothers, and he doesn't have a vagina."

"Which of the two is the deal breaker?" Chuck finds he's not really interested, and looks at Sam.

"I'm very secure in my preferences," Sam says. He rubs the bump above his forehead that increasingly makes him look like the result of some Frankenstein experiment. "And my preferences do not include family."

"That's settled." Chuck dusts her hands. "So. Places to be. _Deus est regit qui omnia._ I've got a little summer camp to set up for a select clientele elsewhere in the multiverse. Chris Carter will be in charge, playing the role of Pinhead. Kripke, Edlund, Gamble and Singer are going to be happy campers in his care for a couple of weeks."

"What about Sam's memories of hell?" Bobby asks, ever the practical member of this dysfunctional fraternity.

"Who cares?" Chuck ponders. "He's almost over it already. Michael and Lucifer were too busy whaling on each other to pay him any special attention. The worst he has to deal with is the memory of Adam holding his ankles, whimpering. He's already forgotten that, along with everyone else." Claudia shrinks, the La Perla turns to Lumberjack chic. Chuck rubs a hand over his beard, turns and walks back into the space between moments.

"Dudes." Dean is at a loss, then remembers. "The Impala. She's belly up. I have to help her."

"Let's get the hell out of here." Bobby heads for the stairs. "He ain't staying with me."

"Dean?" Cas looks at his cherry red Doc Martens. "When she's fixed, will you teach me to drive the Impala?"

"Fuck no." Dean follows Bobby. "I think Bobby's got an old Pinto that still runs."

Sam watches Cas follow Dean, then takes the stairs two at a time and passes him near the door. "I call shotgun. The man who fell to earth gets the back seat."

"Every time," Dean says. " _Deus vult._ "

 

~ ~ ~

The Latin:

Dabit deus his quoque finem – God will bring an end to this

Deus est regit qui omnia – There is a God who rules all things

Deus vult – God wills it


End file.
